


Hurts

by Azureskies168



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Angst, Because that's not overused at all, But also not, Fluff, For some reason Owen thinks Curt is straight, Help me I don't know how to tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oh no there's only one bed, Yeah there's a bit of everything, jk I love that trope, slowburn i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azureskies168/pseuds/Azureskies168
Summary: Hi, so this is my first fic that I'm actually sharing with the world, so I hope you enjoy it. My updating schedule will probably be very irregular, so sorry about that.It's about spies, so obviously there is going to be violence, mentions of death, all that sorta stuff.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. How did we end up like this?

Owen knees the shorter man in the groin, pulling the briefcase from his hand and leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

"This was fun, love, but I'd better be off before my superiors start asking questions."

He moves past his opponent to the exit, where he pauses only to turn and bestow a parting gift. A single gunshot rings out as Owen flees into the night. He hadn't shot the other man anywhere that would kill him, at least if he was sensible, but it would definitely be a major inconvenience to him.

~~~

Curt stumbles along the corridor of the hotel the ASS had booked him a room in. He dreads going back; he knows that Cynthia will all but murder him when she finds out how badly the mission went. Curt was meant to meet with an agent from another agency, but they never showed up. Then of course he had to go and get shot, letting the enemy get away with the plans. He grits his teeth as he makes it to his door, half-collapsing against it and fumbling around for the key in his pocket. He unlocks it and pushes it open, only to be met with a gun aimed right between his eyes.

"Well, I can't say I was expecting this. You must be even more stupid than I thought, love."

~~~

Owen glares at the man standing in front of him and gently presses the end of the gun against his forehead. He thought the man would’ve got the message not to follow him after he was left in the warehouse. Owen just wants to get this mission over with. The American agent he was supposed to meet wasn’t there, so Owen had to do double the work he was supposed to, and he’s exhausted.

It had taken a moment for the words to properly register in Curt’s brain and he suddenly snaps out of his daze. He straightens up as much as he can without worsening the pain of the bullet wound in his side.

“I’d prefer it if you got the gun out of my face, especially since you’re standing in my room.”

He watches as the Brit’s angry expression morphs into one of confusion, then realisation, then back to an emotionless slate. The gun tracks Curt’s every movement, a finger resting on the trigger, ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble. Eventually, Owen speaks.

“It’s awfully difficult to get to know someone nowadays.”

Curt’s eyes widen slightly as he understands. He quickly regains his composure and responds.

“But personal history does have its benefits.”

Owen lowers his gun, but keeps it in hand just in case this is an imposter. It’s unlikely anyone else would know the code, but you can never be too careful in a job like this.

“You’re the American agent?”

Brief. Gets to the point. Curt nods at the question.

“Curt Mega. Agent of the American Secret Service.”

He extends a hand but in moving his arm, he causes a ripple of pain to run through his body and he falls against the wall. Owen moves over to help him, closing the door behind them and slipping an arm around him to support him.

“My sincerest apologies, Agent Mega. Owen Carvour, MI6. One can never be too sure who to trust in this line of work, and you were standing between me and my goal.”

He helps Curt into the bathroom before immediately starting to take off the American’s jacket. Despite the situation, Curt manages to laugh.

“If you wanted me to undress that badly, all you had to do was ask.”

He’s clearly joking, yet Owen tenses ever so slightly at his words. They’ve only just met, so there’s no way Curt could know about that. Not unless he’s the same. Owen quickly dismisses this idea; Curt seems far to heterosexual to be anything else. Then again, he did just make that remark, which has many implications. Owen is dragged out of his thoughts by a tapping on his forehead. He focuses on Curt once more, whose blood-stained jacket is now on the floor.

“I could hear the cogs in your brain turning from here. Now I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’ve been shot, and some assistance would be appreciated.”

Owen mutters an apology while Curt begins to unbutton his shirt, knowing Owen will need to access the wound without any fabric in the way. The brit helps him maneuver out of it, touching his side as little as possible so as not to add to the apin. With Curt sat on the toilet lid, Owen drops to his knees to examine the injury he had caused, pausing briefly to look up every time Curt flinches. He cleans the wound and patches it up as best he can, given the limited resources he has to hand. He works silently, speaking only to give Curt instructions, and noticing that the American is looking at anything but him, at least when Owen takes the time to glance up at him. Unbeknownst to Owen, Curt is almost always looking at him, still wary of this man but having no other choice than to trust him. Once he’s finished, Owen stands up and steps away.

“I don’t have a spare shirt, but you can wear my jacket to cover up the bloodstains on yours. I doubt you’ll want to be walking around in bloodied clothes - it might arouse suspicion.”

As he speaks, he slips off his loose-fitting jacket and hands it to Curt, who places it on his lap for the time being.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. “For hel- for treating the wound and for not killing me.”

Owen notices how he avoids saying the word “help”, but brushes it off. It’s probably nothing anyway so he nods and lets out a little chuckle.

“Well it would’ve been rather unfortunate if I had returned with the plans to find out I had killed the man who I was supposed to be working with.”

Curt allows himself to laugh along with Owen, but keeps his doubts in mind. At any moment Owen could betray him, and although it seems unlikely now, he’s still wary. After all, this is the man who injured him in the first place. Their laughter dies away into silence once more, which Owen breaks.

“We should probably get some rest, especially you beca-”

His words are cut off by two gunshots, followed by screams. Owen and Curt look at each other again, before Curt mutters a single word.

“Shit.”


	2. Under a burning sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just, try and guess something about it from the title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you for the kudos and comments!! I love hearing what people think about my writing so any comments are greatly appreciated!!  
> Secondly, I finished writing this chapter and then immediately uploaded it because I have no self control meaning there is no proper upload schedule, so you'll probably just get a new chapter as soon as I've finished writing it.  
> Third and final thing, enjoy!!!

“Shit.”

Immediately the two spring into action, Curt slipping on Owen’s jacket while Owen grabs the guns. He tosses one to Curt, who catches it and pulls himself to his feet. Still in pain, he moves into the main room, where he sees Owen now standing by the door, listening for any signs of the source of the gunshots. When Curt is ready to go, they open the door and move out into the empty corridor, guns hidden but easily available for if or when they need to use them.

Stopping every so often, mainly to help Curt, the pair make their way to the stairwell. It’s eerily quiet, especially considering there were screams and gunshots mere moments earlier.

Cautiously, they make their way down to the lobby of the hotel. They’ve yet to come across a single person and both of them can feel that something is not quite right, although neither can place their finger on it.

The rumbles of an explosion give away the danger they are in and they rush towards the exit until Curt stops them both. When Owen looks at him questioningly, he simply responds with, “listen.” The faint cry of a child can now be heard through the commotion.

“Curt, we don’t have time.”

Seemingly ignoring Owen’s remark, Curt turns and moves back towards the stairwell, going up to try and find the floor the child is on. Owen’s not too sure what compels him to do so, but he finds himself following the American agent. Logically, he should be getting out of here, putting as much distance as physically possible between himself and the hotel, yet something is compelling him to stay and help Curt.

Running to catch up, Owen follows him up the stairs until they find the right floor, hurrying along the hallway. They almost miss the child completely as the cries have now subsided, but a small movement gives away the hiding place.

A young girl is curled up on the floor, clutching a torn blanket in her hands. Owen crouches to be more on her level and speaks gently, his voice soft and welcoming.

“Hello there. Can you come with us please?”

He extends a hand to her but she pulls away from him, shaking her head. Owen sighs and moves so he’s sat on the floor.

“I know you must be very scared, but that’s why we’re here. We need to get out of this building because there’s a big fire that’s very dangerous. Do you think you can come with us now?”

Once again she shakes her head.

“I’m not allowed to go with strangers.”

Curt cuts in here, desperate to get this child to safety.

“Well if we introduce ourselves then we won’t be strangers. I’m Curt and this is Owen. What’s your name?”

The girl considers Curt’s words for a few seconds before responding.

“Elena.”

Owen freezes at this. His head isn’t allowing him to move from his position no matter how hard he tries. Curt snaps his fingers in his face but it does nothing. Elena stands up and takes Owen’s hand.

“Come on, Mister Owen. We need to get away from the scary fire.”

Somehow her voice seems to wake him from his trance and he jumps up, lifting the small girl to rest her on his hip and walking down the corridor, Curt following closely behind. Elena, now over the initial shock of being picked up, clings to Owen, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and face buried in his chest.

They reach the lobby to see the main exit blocked by a line of fire. Frantically looking for another way out, Curt spots a backdoor that will at least take them away from the flames. They rush through the door and quickly close it before turning to see where they are. It appears to be a kitchen area, which Owen thinks is good - almost all kitchens in hotels have a door leading straight outside. He moves through the room until he reaches a door that looks promising, signaling to Curt who gets his gun ready for anyone who may be waiting for them.

They open the door to see just a large open area. Cautiously, they leave the building and start running across the grass. Out of nowhere, a gunshot rings out and Owen instinctively drops to the ground, shielding Elena from any bullets, He speaks quietly, but in a stern and commanding tone.

“You need to stay down, okay? Even if Curt or I fall down, you need to stay where you are until you know you’re safe.”

Elena nods and lets go of Owen, who proceeds to grab his gun and stand up, looking around for the source of the shots. He quickly spots them and starts shooting along with Curt, occasionally ducking down to avoid any incoming bullets.

A few minutes of this pass, until the last of the enemy has been shot down. Owen rushes to Elena, crouching beside her.

“It’s safe now, Elena. We can go.”

She stands up and takes his hand, and they carry on walking away from the hotel, away from the fire, Curt on the other side of Owen, looking for any danger. He turns to look at Owen and then down at Elena, and then back up at Owen.

“What are we going to do with her?”


End file.
